


Love

by Dominatrix



Series: 120 Raindrops on the window [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Noooo he is not in love, Well maybe a little
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-22
Updated: 2012-10-22
Packaged: 2017-11-16 20:38:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/543592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dominatrix/pseuds/Dominatrix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlocks thinks about love and all its disadvantages.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love

Love.

Sherlock snorted.

What an utter nonsense.

Love was nothing but a biological defect, an awful, mostly deadly weakness.

How many cases had Sherlock solved that had the motive of love in the end? Disappointed love, unreturned love, forgotten love…Nothing was as destructible. Nothing apart from love forced anybody to fall out their usual way of living and to do imprudent things that ended up with one corpse minimum in most cases. Nothing apart from love induced people to sing bad love songs – dripping from sadness and pain – under the window of the beloved one.

Sometimes Sherlock was heavily disappointed by mankind. Why should you get yourself in so much misfortune and sorrow? What was the sense in willingly accepting these conditions although you knew that you were left hurt and alone in the end? When you knew, that she would be gone in the end, although you had done everything for her, had helped her? Although you saved her life and risked you own? Why should you still lock off this one woman, the woman, the only woman that would ever matter? Why should she still be locked in your thoughts, anxiously rambling like a poltergeist? Sherlock did not understand it.

How could something as useless as the seemingly random attraction to another person get you to the point where you sit in your living room at three a.m. alone to think about her?

He shook his head angrily. Sometimes people were idiots. Well, more than usual. He looked out in the darkness and recognized his own reflection in the dark shades of the window. John was probably already sleeping, and Sherlock should allow himself a few hours of sleep too, before Lestrade would maybe call him again to ask him for the solving of another case. Presumably again something about love. She seemed to be around all the time, no matter how unrequested she was at the very moment and how not suitable the people that felt her were for love.

He wasn’t really tired; anyway the Consulting Detective rose from the sofa and left the living room.

After all, it was three a.m. already.


End file.
